Weebles and Water Snakes
by J. Peterson
Summary: Initially, you were more annoyed than anything else, because she waltzed into your life and instantly belonged, and no amount of carefully erected emotional walls was going to stand in her way.


**Disclaimer:**  
_Pitch Perfect_, all characters and other related indica are the property of Universal Pictures (as far as I can tell). No profit made, no infringement intended.

**Author's notes:**  
I completely and utterly fell in love with these two, so really, taking a few shaky steps out of the _Mai HiME _fandom was bound to happen. (Not that I have any plans on leaving.)

Just a simple oneshot here – I'm still getting to know the characters, so if anything seems OOC, gimme a poke.

Enjoy.

**Weebles and Water Snakes**

* * *

You're pretty sure you're losing your mind. Or... well, you're losing _something_, anyway. It might not be as critical as your sanity, but there's definitely some kinda loss of control involved here. Somewhere.

You can't decide if it would be more or less of a cause for concern if you could actually bring yourself to worry about it. Because you're not worrying over it that much – if at all – which is surprising in and of itself. You never really did, honestly. Initially, you were more annoyed than anything else, because she waltzed into your life and instantly _belonged_, and no amount of carefully erected emotional walls was going to stand in her way.

So it wasn't her you were annoyed with. It was more with the almost contented laziness of your usual tendency to keep people at arms' length – that little bitch practically just rolled over and played dead. And _purred_. To say that it didn't make sense would be the understatement of either the century or the millennium – they're both equally new occurrences, so it really doesn't make that much of a difference.

It didn't make sense then, and it sure as hell doesn't make any more sense now. If logic was involved in this at all, your need for pristine personal space coupled with her total lack of boundaries should send you screaming into the night, never to be heard from again. Instead, you started out tolerating it because she's just too damn _nice_ for you to be mad at her. Then you got used to it because she's so damn _sincere_ about seeking you out and wanting to be your friend and honestly liking you. Before long, you started missing her smile when it didn't come, because when she's not open and affectionate and all laughter and cheer, something is truly, seriously gnawing at her and it makes you _worry_.

By now, you're not only _enjoying_ the hugs and the talks and the occasional outright tackle-glomp when she's feeling hyper – you're returning them. You're reaching out for her on the occasion that she doesn't reach out for you first, because dammit, it feels _good_ to have someone like that in your life. Even if she does drive you crazy sometimes.

And... well, you're starting to realize that maybe you kinda-sorta like her. Not in the _'hey, you're chill, let's hang out'_ way. More in the _'my stomach starts break-dancing and my voice wants to go all squeaky when you smile at me'_ way.

It's weird. And a bit disconcerting – mostly because you're actually enjoying it. There's definitely worse people to be crushing on than Chloe Beale, because if rainbows and sunshine could be condensed into a person, she'd probably be it. Even if someone tries to knock her down, she always gets back on her feet with that same open, friendly smile on her face. Not because she's naive; you thought so for a while way back, but you changed your mind soon enough. Chloe isn't gullible; she just refuses to let life get on her bad side – if she even has one - and genuinely believes in that hoary old saying about 'smile and the world smiles with you' or whatever.

She's kind of like one of those Weeble things you've run across a few times. They wobble, but they don't fall down, and now you're wondering what she would compare _you_ to.

"Chlo?" You pull the left cup of your headphones back, and remain idly aware of the steady bass against your right ear as you eye her. "What kinda toy would I be?"

You don't have to speak up a whole lot – she's sitting all of two feet away, and aside from the two of you, the dorm is empty. Who knows where Kimmy Jin's gone off to. The only thing distracting her is the book in her lap and her notes off to one side, so she definitely hears you.

And totally misunderstands the question, if the slight, twitching grin on her face and the slowly climbing eyebrow is any indication.

"... toy?" she prompts, and sounds about two seconds away from cracking up laughing.

"Not _that_ kinda toy!" you object with a groan, and literally facepalm when she finally does laugh and you feel the flush creep up your neck in response. "Oh, my God, you're such a dork."

"You love me," she sing-songs, and makes appropriately obnoxious kissy-noises at you while you glower at her between two fingers.

"Pffblh," you mutter in response. "_Childhood_ toys, Beale, if you could make your mind stop circling the drain for a second."

She grins – presumably at your blush because you're certain she loves it when you get all flustered – but seems to consider the question without spending too much time wondering what made you ask.

"Water snake," she finally decides, and you're pretty sure your eyes are gonna pop out of your head.

"A _what_?!"

"You have an ear free." Chloe tugs lightly at the bodypart in question and chuckles. "You heard me."

"I heard you," you manage to agree amidst all the gawping you're doing. "I'm just having trouble following your admittedly special brand of logic."

"What? It works," she insists, and smiles at you with her chin resting on one loosely curled fist. "You seem pretty unassuming and somehow manage to keep people disinterested that way, but if anyone takes a closer look, there's a lot of fun to be had, you know? Plus, you refuse to really let anyone get a good grip on you – anyone tries to squeeze you too hard, you slip right out and back into your comfort zone."

That's actually disturbingly accurate, and you scrunch up your nose in response. "I think your psych elective is getting to you," you decide. "Besides, do you know what most boys probably used those things for?"

"Moving into Freudian territory, are you?" Her eyes twinkle in a way that makes you decidedly nervous. "And was that a hypothetical question? Because if not, I can make several very detailed guesses as to exact-"

"Hypothetical!" you cut her off, and ignore the amusement that soon follows. "... nerd," you follow up a few moments later when she's still giggling, and shake your head even while you feel an answering grin tugging at your lips.

"Awesome nerd, if you don't mind."

"Aca-nerd, anyway," you mutter, and make a few adjustments to the sliders on your monitor before pulling the cup back over your left ear to give the result a closer listen. It only takes maybe five seconds before your lips purse approvingly at the change, and unsurprisingly, that's followed by the fresh scent of Chloe's perfume getting closer and the feeling of her hands stealing your headphones and putting them on herself.

"Well, this aca-nerd wants to know what you're working on," she tells you, and looks thoroughly unaffected by the mild glare you send her as you stop the music. "Hit play, Mitchell. Don't be a fuddy-duddy."

"... we really need to work on your vocabulary," is all you can think of to say in reply, because she's settled herself comfortably against your side and the closeness is honestly making you a little dizzy. "Fine, Oh Demanding One. Have it your way."

"I always do," she agrees cheerfully, and then falls silent and listens.

Definitely weird, you mentally reiterate as you try not to look as horribly affected by the random cuddling as you are. You can feel the slight weight of her head against your shoulder, and the barest tickle of her hair against the side of your face. Her shampoo has a fresh, sharp tang not unlike her perfume, and while you _do_ stop yourself from pressing your face into her hair and inhaling deeply, you still turn your head enough that you can study her while her eyes are closed and her attention is on the music.

It would be a whole lot easier to ignore the fluttering in your insides if she wasn't so damn... _Chloe_.

Apparently she feels you watching her, because she shifts and cracks her eyes back open with an almost sleepy, little smile. That, however, freezes when your gazes lock just a little too soon for you to school your face into neutrality, and there's a few seconds of total, internal freak-out happening on your end before she completely and utterly shocks you by cupping your face in one careful hand and touching her lips to yours.

The kiss is nothing too involved; the barest brush of skin against skin, but it still sends a barrage of shivers barreling down the length of your spine. You hope you don't look as shocked as you feel, because her eyes are open and watching you carefully while you're way too dumbstruck to do anything but _sit there_ like a total moron. That goes on for several heartbeats – although admittedly yours is pounding so wildly that it's basically just a continuous roar of noise – and the only thing that makes you snap out of it is the appearance of a tiny furrow in her brow and the fact that she's pulling back. She's all of half an inch away by the time you're surging forward, and you grab her by the shoulders and close the distance again before you can think better of it.

This time it's a _lot_ more involved, because she gasps in surprise and you run on pure instinct to take advantage of it. Then Chloe is the one to snap out of it and _holy mother of whatever deity is listening, this girl can kiss!_ The shivers down your spine from before are practically earthquakes now, and judging by the soft groan that passes from her lips to yours and how her fingers tangle in your hair, you're pretty sure that she's as into this as you are.

It takes your own hands pushing the headphones down and them hitting the floor with a thud to break the two of you apart. You're probably bright red in the face and definitely out of breath, but at least Chloe's breathing is also sounding suspiciously shallow - especially when she starts giggling softly.

"What?" you ask. Or rather, you _intend_ to ask that. What actually happens is that what little air is left in your lungs leaves them in a whoosh, so the actual sound you make is more of a completely inarticulate "Wuuh?"

Of course, that only makes her laugh harder, and you roll your eyes and mutter something appropriately rude under your breath as you reclaim your headphones and settle them around your neck.

"You're too cute for words, you know that?" Chloe remarks, and gently pushes a few strands of your hair behind your ear.

"I am _not_ cute," you insist for the Nth time in the months you've known her. "You need to have those baby-blues checked. Seriously."

She chuckles in reply and gives your nose a light tweak because she's one of the ridiculously few people who can do that and not have their head chewed off, and then scoots back to her former seat and reclaims her textbook.

Given what just happened, you muse as both of you resume working on your respective tasks, the silence that stretches between you is surprisingly comfortable.

"Chlo?" You wait for her to look up, and there's that damn flutter in your stomach again when she does. "We're gonna do that again, right?"

Chloe... Well, you don't wanna say that she _merely_ smiles, because there's nothing 'mere' about one of her smiles. Especially not this one, which is somehow impossibly warmer than all the ones you've seen in the past.

"I think that can be arranged," she agrees, and settles back against your side – obviously intending to stay there, since she also pulls her schoolwork over.

And you? You're grinning like an absolute idiot as you return to your music, and you just can't bring yourself to care.


End file.
